


Whatever the Hell we Want

by supahnova



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: All ships except jasper/murphy are mentioned only, Jasper and mutphy bond, M/M, Post-Mount Weather, Rough Sex, Smut, Table Sex, This is my second smut, V agnsty smut, agnst, and have sex, based on a tumblr prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 16:50:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4884367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supahnova/pseuds/supahnova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Mt. Weather, Jasper Jordan finds the lighthouse. And Murphy. Cue agnsty bonding over crushes on Bellamy Blake and fucked-up lives. This is the second smut I've written so...let me know what you think? I live for comments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever the Hell we Want

To be honest, Jasper had no idea how he had ended up on an island in the middle of nowhere. He woke up lying in the sand, his face stinging with cuts. For a moment, he just lay there. It was sunny and warm and nothing was wrong and the waves sounded so comforting against the sand-

Comforting. It had been a long time since anything had been comforting. 

Jasper sat up slowly, wincing, his feet knocking against the side of a rickety wooden rowboat only halfway pulled onto the beach. He supposed he should be concerned, but he wasn't. He didn't care anymore. Why should he care about anything? Or anyone? There was no one left. 

He tipped his head back, staring at the sky- and that's when he saw it. The tip of a metal tower. Jasper scrambled to his feet, staring at the silvery structure just barely visible past the line of trees. A skyscraper- no, he remembered this, he remembered this from his earth studies class- a lifehouse? Lighthouse? Lighthouse- that was it. Monty had rolled his eyes and said that if the space stations had lighthouse, maybe more people would have-

Jasper didn't want to think about Monty. Keeping his head tipped back so he could keep the structure in sight, he walked towards the lighthouse. 

The door opened easily- strange, that after a good hundred years or so had passed, the door would still be in working condition. The door swung open, revealing an all-too familiar sight- plush carpeting. Dim lighting. Paintings hung on the walls and odd collections of artifacts lining the hallway. Jasper swallowed, remembering the last time he thought he was in a safe place. "What would Clarke do?" He recalled Monty's words. The name shifted in his head, from Clarke to Bellamy to Monty, until finally, like a wheel stopping its spinning, he landed on "what would Jasper do?"

Did he have any choice?

Jasper jumped about a foot in the air when he saw Murphy, but he wasn't surprised. Murphy was like a cockroach- unsquashable, always turning up again. Even sleeping on a velvet couch, his mouth slack and his hair hanging limply over his eyes, the boy seemed to have an aura of menace, of death. But Jasper was a killer too now. Here they were, two misunderstood murderers, he thought, his mouth twisting into an unpleasant smile as be recalled their last meeting. Then he sighed. He was so tired. Jasper cautiously circled around the room, choosing a small armchair and curling up, his head falling against a silky pillow and his feet tucked over the side. He wondered if Murphy was just tired, too.

Out of all the things Murphy expected to see that morning, whats-his-face goggle boy's messy brown hair was not one of them. Murphy immediately scrambled up, grabbing the knife he kept under his pillow. The boy looked so small, curled up in the armchair across from Murphy. Murphy swallowed, creeping closer to him. He was wearing some stupid button down shirt, and even though he was asleep, he seemed so tense- his body curled, his hands scrunched into fists, his eyes screwed shut and his forehead lined with worry. Probably had something to do with being speared, Murphy figured. Or being held hostage by the mountain. 

Oh, right. Or being held hostage by Murphy.

Goggle Boy had a shit life.

Suddenly, the boy gasped, his eyes flying open. Murphy almost jumped back in shock, the knife almost slipping through his hands. Goggle Boy seemed to be hyperventilating, his eyes flickering between Murphy's face and the knife pointed at him. Then, it was like something broke down inside of him. His body relaxed, and his eyes seemed to dull.  
"Hey, Murphy," he muttered.  
Murphy's hand was shaking a little. He cleared his throat. "Goggles."  
"It's Jasper," the boy said, a little coldly. "Are you going to kill me, or can I sit up now?"  
Murphy blinked. The last time he had seen Jasper, he had been shaking and tied up, tears leaking out of his eyes. And then again, when he had left camp, staring at Bellamy as if he put the stars in the sky. The dry, unconcerned tone of voice- That wasn't the person he remembered. It reminded him of- Well, it reminded Murphy of himself.  
"Well?" Jasper interrupted his train of thought.  
"Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess." Murphy backed up, lazily draping himself across the other couch but keeping a watchful eye on Jasper.  
"Thanks," the boy muttered, unfolding his tightly wound body and sitting stiffly on the edge of the armchair.  
"So," Murphy began carefully, trying to sound nonchalant. "You're alive."  
Jasper's fingers bounced on his leg. "Yes," he said curtly.  
Murphy grabbed a bottle of gin from where it was resting against the couch and took a long swig, eyes still trained on Jasper.  
"You want some?" He offered the bottle. Jasper reached over and took it from him, taking several large gulps.  
"You gonna tell me what you're doing here?" Murphy asked with a yawn.  
Jasper shrugged. "You gonna tell me what you're doing here, Murphy?"  
Murphy smirked. "Welcome to the promised land," he said sarcastically, raising his arms in a dramatic flourish. "While you were doing whatever in that mountain, Jaha went insane and convinced me to find paradise with him. Ended up just abandoning me like he abandoned all the other dead people."  
Jasper nodded, although Murphy suspected the younger boy had no idea what he had just said.  
"What about you, then? I see you're out of the mountain, so that must be some improvement," Murphy drawled. Jasper gave him a look so sharp it could have pierced steel.  
"I don't want to talk about the mountain," he said through clenched teeth.  
Murphy let it alone.

The next time they spoke, it was Jasper who began the conversation.  
"Did you hate me?"  
Murphy shrugged. "I hated everyone in that goddamn camp. That's why I'm here."  
"I hate everyone too."  
Murphy snorted. "No, you don't. You've got Monty and Clarke and Raven, and you follow Bellamy like some sort of obedient dog, waiting for him to praise you-"  
The look Jasper was giving him was murderous, so Murphy stopped.  
"You haven't been around for a while, Murphy."  
Murphy sighed, exasperated. "Then tell me what happened!"  
Silence.

"I never hated you," Murphy eventually noted.  
Silence.  
"I guess I hated you a little, but only because you took my place. With Bellamy, I mean," Murphy muttered, half hoping Jasper wouldn't hear him.  
Still silence. It was a couple of minutes before Jasper replied.  
"You loved Bellamy."  
Murphy considered denying it, but what was the point.  
"Yeah. You?"  
Jasper blushed, looking down. "I...I don't know."  
Murphy rolled his eyes. "Oh, right. You've already got a boyfriend. The other nerd, right?"  
Jasper's expression hardened. "Monty isn't my friend."  
Murphy smirked. He was done with Jasper dancing around whatever the hell happened. He needed a reaction. "Friend with benefits, then? I mean, you guys were definitely fu-"  
"He killed Maya." Jasper glared at Murphy.  
Murphy took a swig from a bottle of wine. "Who's Maya?"  
Jasper ignored him, words spilling out of his mouth now. "He killed Maya, they killed Maya, they killed everyone! And I was going to fix it, I could have killed Cage-" his voice cracked and wobbled, but he continued.  
"I could have killed Cage and she would have lived!"  
"What did they do, Jasper?" Murphy asked in a careful tone.  
Jasper swallowed, his eyes glassy. "Killed everyone. Everyone in the mountain. There were children there. Innocent people. They...they could have found another way."  
Then, Jasper couldn't speak any more, sobs shaking his fragile figure. Murphy sighed inwardly, awkwardly wrapping his arms around the boy's shoulders and letting him press his face against Murphy's chest.  
They sat like that for hours, and slowly Jasper pieced together the story for Murphy. How he had become a leader for those trapped in the mountain. How they had fought the Mountain Men with the help of Maya and Bellamy. How Monty, Bellamy, and Clarke finally betrayed him. Murphy just held him, listening but never speaking, until Jasper's head finally drooped down, asleep. Murphy gently slid Jasper off him, standing up. He needed another drink.  
"I did like Bellamy," Jasper said suddenly. Murphy jumped. Jasper hadn't been asleep. He turned and saw Jasper watching him with half-closed eyes.  
Jasper continued. "He was...amazing."  
"So amazing."  
"I looked up to him."  
"His fucking hair and his face and his stupid freckles..."  
"But that was before."  
"Are you a virgin, Jasper?" Murphy asked suddenly. Jasper made a choking noise.  
"What?"  
"You heard me." Murphy sat back down on the couch, his hand slowly wandering across to Jasper's knee.  
"Uh, no...unless you don't count doing it while you're high as a kite."  
"You had sex while on drugs."  
"Yeah."  
Murphy smirked. "I'm finding that extremely hot right now."  
Jasper blushed a bright shade of red.  
"Thanks, I guess."  
Murphy leaned forward so that their noses were almost touching.  
"We're both extremely fucked up and this is going to be nothing good for our health."  
Jasper nodded mutely. Murphy wasn't sure if Jasper understood entirely what he was saying, but he just didn't have the capacity to care. The look Jasper was giving him was a Murphy needed. He slammed his lips into Jasper's, grabbing the back of his head and threading fingers through his hair. Jasper seemed to freeze for a second, but then his hands were on Murphy's shoulders, nails digging into his back. They lost themselves in each other, Murphy's hands sliding under Jasper's shirt and across his chest, gliding over scars and nails digging into skin. Murphy grabbed Jasper by his stupid button down shirt's collars, forcing the boy's back against the wall, pinning Jasper down and pressing his lips against Jasper's neck. Jasper's hands were grabbing, twisting, once second in Murphy's hair and the next pulling at the back of his shirt. Murphy could feel Jasper shaking, both with sobs and moans alike. He roughly pulled the boy's shirt off, then his own. He knew he was being rough- he was practically crushing Jasper against the wall, grinding his hips violently against Jasper's- but Jasper didn't seem to mind. In fact, he was just as rough as Murphy, his hips stuttering back and his hands pulling and twisting at Murphy's hair. Murphy grabbed Jasper by the shoulders, pulling his away from the wall and pushing him backwards until the backs of his legs hit the edge of the large, polished wooden dining table. Murphy kissed Jasper hungrily, biting at his lip and forcing his tongue into the younger boy's mouth. He leaned forward, placing his hands against the table on either side of the boy, trapping him. Jasper's hands danced like feathers across Murphy's arms and chest. Jasper lifted himself up to sit on the table, letting Murphy slowly force him down until he lay flat against the table surface, legs still dangling off the edge as Murphy leaned over him. Murphy lifted Jasper's legs onto the table so that they were bent at the knees, his whole body on top of the shiny expanse of the table. Murphy unceremoniously pulled Jasper's pants off of him, leaving on his tented briefs. For just a moment, he hovered above the boy, who was arching and squirming on the table, desperate for touch. He wondered if Bellamy ever thought about him like this. He wondered if Bellamy ever thought he was beautiful, too.  
Then he lifted himself onto the table, letting Jasper scramble backwards so that his legs could lie flat against the surface. For a minute, the old, sadistic Murphy returned. He ran his hands over Jasper's thighs, smirking as Jasper swore, hips stuttering upwards. He picked at the waistband of Jasper's briefs in an unconcerned manner. Then he heard Jasper whisper something.  
"What did you say?" Murphy narrowed his eyes.  
Jasper swallowed, his voice sounding like a sob. "Please."  
Murphy broke right there and then, roughly pulling the younger boy's briefs down. Jasper moaned beautifully, Murphy thought as he stroked him. His head was thrown back, thrashing from side to side against the table.  
"You ready?"  
Jasper nodded frantically. Murphy stroked him again, causing his mouth to fall open in another moan. Murphy shoved three of his fingers past the boy's red, red lips.  
"Suck," he commanded. Jasper immediately obeyed, staring up at Murphy with full-blown pupils as he coated Murphy's fingers in saliva. He removed his mouth with an obscene popping noise. Murphy wasted no time, methodically pushing Jasper's legs apart and thrusting one finger inside of him. Jasper made a pained sound, but Murphy ignored it, adding another finger. Jasper's hands were both gripping the edges of the table, his knuckles white.  
"Can't take it?" Murphy couldn't help but taunt, suddenly pressing hard against Jasper's sweet spot and elicting a long moan from the younger boy.  
"Just- keep- going," Jasper choked out, his face tight with pain and pleasure.

When he entered Jasper, he supposed he could have easily flipped him over. But Jasper's face was so beautiful- the way his mouth would wordlessly open and shut, the way his eyes would scrunch shut and then fly open every time Murphy pushed a little harder. Jasper was so amazingly expressive- Murphy wondered, for a second, if Monty had noticed that. Probably. Murphy slammed into Jasper, trying to angle himself just right-  
"F- fuck," Jasper choked out, his whole body arching off the desk as if he had been hit by a bolt of lightning. Murphy pulled out and slammed Jasper against the table again, and Jasper saw stars. Monty was the only other person he had ever had sex with. Monty was soft and slow and careful and caring, and hazed lights and the floaty feeling of drugs. Murphy was fire and passion and anger and recklessness, sharp and clear and cutting through everything else. Every time he pushed in, Jasper could feel the table grinding against his shoulder blades. He wondered if Bellamy would be like this- rough like Murphy, or sweet like Monty, or somewhere in between or not in between at all. 

They lay, tangled together on top of the table, panting together, for longer than necessary. Jasper was stiff and could barely move without wincing, but it felt good that way. Eventually, Murphy helped him up, pulling his clothes back on for him and carrying the young boy, curled up against his chest, back to the couch. He carefully lay Jasper down, sitting next to him and idly playing with his tangled hair.  
"What happens now?" Jasper murmured quietly.  
Murphy shrugged. "Whatever the hell we want."


End file.
